place a funnel into one of the empty quart sized water bottles, then crack the seal of the Miralax.
"14 doses..." I say to myself; one dose equals one cap full, so 7 cap fulls equals half the bottle. An amateur chemist, I ever so carefully measure out seven caps of the white powder, pouring each into the funnel where it hisses into the bottle like fine sand.
I repeat the process with the second bottle; no measuring required now. I tap the funnel to clear it, then crack open the 32 ounce bottle of blue Powerade; it's still cool from the store, but that won't matter. I measure sixteen ounces into the white plastic measuring cup next to me, then carefully pour that into the funnel. I tap the funnel to clear it, place it in the second bottle, and pour in the rest; the blue sinks into the white powder as I quickly screw the lids on both before taking one in each hand. I shake them vigorously, ignoring the twinge of protest in my already sensitive stomach. I peer into the bottle at the results and frown- it's mixed, but the powder hasn't dissolved fully. I shake the bottles again as I think about my options: I can suck it up and drink the 32 ounces of thick, gritty liquid, or I can add another cup of Powerade overall, which, while it may slightly decrease the level of unpleasantness, will draw out the process longer.
Still, I grimace at the prospect of adding 'gritty' to the traits of this already disgusting mixture. There's really no contest. I add half a cup to each bottle, shaking them again, and look inside.
"That's...better." I mutter, pursing my lips. It'll have to do.
I place the bottles in the refrigerator and blow out a sigh, hoping they'll have enough time to chill before I have to start my prep.
Technically, though, this is the second prep I'll be doing in as many days. Yesterday, I sat down with a giant jug of something called GoLYTELY with instructions to drink 8 ounces every 5-10 minutes over four hours, until the jug was empty. I set a timer for 2 minutes on my phone and rented the first three Jurassic Park movies, hoping that rampaging dinosaurs chasing terrified paleontologists would distract me from what I was drinking. For the first four or five glasses, it almost worked. By then, it'd been about an hour; my stomach was starting to feel full. By the eighth glass I was having a significant amount of trouble; it wasn't just the taste- though that, itself, was unpleasant- it was the texture, thick and smooth, coating my mouth and tongue every time I drank it. I pushed back the timer to 2 1/2 minutes between each gulp. Each time, when I was done I had to press my hand to my mouth, my eyes squeezing shut as I breathed deep through my nose and concentrated on not being sick. I ended up having to take breaks between 'doses', trying to get as much as I could at a time into my system.
But there was another problem. According to the prep instructions, I would have my first movement an hour after my first 'dose' of the GoLYTELY. Two hours went by, and nothing had happened.
I carried on as best I could. By 8:30, I'd finished half of the solution, and still hadn't made any progress. Feeling sick to my stomach, I resigned myself to contacting the on call GI at my doctor's. I made the call, feeling embarrassed as I explained to two different people why I needed to reach the GI, and it couldn't wait until morning. I gave my call back number, was told that the doctor would be paged and I'd hear back in around a half an hour. In the meantime, I tried to drink more of the mixture, getting up and walking around.
Finally, I heard from the on call GI.
"So you haven't had a single bowel movement?" he asked
"No, not anything." I said, feeling myself blush and rolling my eyes at myself.
He confirmed what I'd feared - that they wouldn't be able to go through with the procedure.
"You're absolutely right in that we will not be able to get clear information at this point." he said.
I silently groaned and dropped my forehead to the cool surface of my desk. Of course not. This was the third time I'd been unable to have the procedure because my prep had failed to work. Lovely, I thought, already dreading having to call and reschedule, listening to the appointments nurse sigh as she went through her system. Then, starting the prep all over again..
"Do you think you would be willing to continue with the prep tomorrow?" the GI's voice cut through my reverie. I lifted my head.
"Um...yes, I think I could do that." I said.
"Because if you could stay on the clear liquid diet, tomorrow you can start the prep again and then have the procedure on Thursday." he said.
"Yes, I can absolutely do that." I assured him.
And that leads to this afternoon, right now, as I prepare the- thankfully different- prep, trying not to think of the evening ahead of me, and hoping that the Powerade, at least, won't be as bad.
